Do you get scared?
by just jacs
Summary: Just because you ask the questions it doesn't always mean you get the right answers...ONESHOT


**Do you get Scared?**

**Thought I would try a new area. I had fun writing this. Please review let me know what you think. Should I try writing another Constantine piece or should I leave it well alone? Let me know your thoughts.**

**Disclaimer**

**Not mine**

Chas concentrated on the road ahead as he drove John home after his last appointment for want of a better word. At the start of the drive he had tried to ask him about it, how was he supposed to learn if he didn't ask questions?

He was long past hoping he would ever find out anything about John's personal life. The man revealed nothing; it was the most infuriating yet endearing thing about him. He had no more desire to know anything about Chas's life than he did to reveal anything about his own. The only thing John seemed to care about and depend on was cigarettes and alcohol.

Were Chas one of the many who were caught up in the growing infatuation of applying basic psychology to explain every action of a person he may deduce that John relied on these inanimate objects because they provided a guaranteed source of comfort. It was a certainty and comfort that was almost never the case in humans. Chas believed the real answer was much simpler. John liked cigarettes and alcohol.

"John, how am I meant to learn if you won't let me watch you work or ask you any questions?" Chas asked bitterly as the silence in the car was adding to his foul mood.

"You read enough books surely you must find something useful in there," John said distractedly as he lit a cigarette.

"Yeah well you always tell me it's nothing like the books. Maybe it's time you told me what it's really like huh," he pushed.

John slowly exhaled smoke through his nose as he looked up to actually look at the kid. He noticed the looked of determination and irritation on the kid's face as he gripped the steering wheel in a grip vice.

Chas sighed at his silence. He guessed he wasn't going to get an answer, he was just expected to drive. Maybe he didn't want to spend all his time driving the exorcist about anymore. Maybe he actually wanted to do something more just like John had promised him he would one day.

"Don't look so pissed kid," John said as he pitched his cigarette butt out the cab window,

Chas jumped slightly as John spoke and blushed crimson at having done so.

"You scare too easy kid," John said watching the kid as his words found his way to him in the dark confined space of the cab.

"Do you not get scared?" Chas asked.

"What do you think?" John asked as a slither of a smile touched his lips.

He was about to respond but stopped himself. Everyone gets scared don't they? John Constantine wasn't everybody though was he? He knew very little about him and the more he thought about it the less sure he was that he wanted to know anymore. If that was true why couldn't he stop himself asking him questions and wondering about him?

"Well?" John asked his voice crashing its way through his thoughts.

"I think most people do but I don't think you are most people," he finally said.

John nodded into the darkness. "That's why I don't show you," he said almost ominously.

Chas shivered involuntary then open and shut his mouth. He was even more confused now.

"You don't want to be like me. People like me, if there are any other people like me don't get scared. We don't feel anything we only want," he said.

John's tone indicated the discussion was over but he still had no idea what he was saying to him. Only John could answer a question and add even more confusion to the issue. Yet somehow he had the feeling that in those few words John had told him everything there was to know about him. He just couldn't understand what it was.

"Kid, take me home," John said as he leaned back against the battered seats of the cab.

"Night kid," he said as he removed himself with utmost composure from the cab regardless of the fatigue seeping through his features. Chas watched him almost morph with the shadows as he headed towards his place before driving off.

John clutched his porcelain sink as he coughed harshly. His chest heaved and burned as dark red blood spurted into the bowl. He was dying that was what they had told him. The cancer was back what was it they had said? This time it was aggressive.

No, people like him didn't get scared. People like him just wanted a way out. Fear simply wasn't an option it had been eliminated by his lifestyle.

All John Constantine wanted was a glimmer of hope. Knowing there was no hope to be had, was that the same as fear, or was it mere acceptance? If it was acceptance then why did he still carry out exorcisms in hope of been forgiven by God? Maybe it was denial he felt? He doubted that was it. He was all too aware of what was happening to him.

No, people like John Constantine don't feel anything. They just want anything they can get; anything they can get that can help them understand what they want.

John Constantine didn't want to die but he didn't want to live either. What did that leave?

That was the problem. He was no longer able to feel such pure and certain emotions such as fear that would enable him to fear either of the options available to him. All he was left with was a want to know what he wanted and the ability to feel enough to care.


End file.
